Behind the Mask, Behind the Scenes
by Midnight1234
Summary: Everyone has a mask that they wear, but sometimes a mask doesn't come off. Sometimes no one can see what plays on behind the mask. No one knows that Natsu hasn't healed one bit since Igneel died and has put up a mask without their knowing. But a great actor never forgets his lines.


_**Behind the Mask, Behind the Scenes**_

He thought everything was going to be perfect, to be back to what it was supposed to be, back to when he was truly happy. He thought, but yet thoughts can be a disease, a downfall, something that can destroy one from the inside out if one is not careful. And yet his thoughts are all of that and then some. They betrayed him, they lied to him. He may never trust them again.

Igneel had finally come back, and he finally felt happy, felt that emptiness within him stir and go away and he thought that was goodbye to his unhappiness, to his loneliness. He didn't care Igneel had hid from him all these years, hid from him beyond minds reach, he didn't care he was inside of him all this time even how far fetch that sounded, he didn't care.

But those times are long gone and over, something he could never touch again because they are farther than Igneel had ever gone, farther than he could see, farther than the horizon and his hope and love can ever be. It was simply something out of reach, and he felt lost and empty, broken and hopeless. He was a shell of former glory; he was a shell of a hero, of a son, a friend. He was a shell of Natsu Dragneel, someone that could never be gained again.

He didn't cry as his foster father was laid in the ground and his guild mates had laid dirt over the body. He didn't cry when Master had spoken words of farewell. He didn't cry even when the sky itself couldn't hold back is own tears. He couldn't cry. Why should he? Why should someone like him who experiences pain like breathing be able to have something so great as crying? He shouldn't be allowed to, his body and mind agreed with him since they wouldn't even let him tear up.

He couldn't remember exactly what had happened when his foster father was buried. He remembered the dark grey sky. He remembered the cold, the wetness from the tears that heaven brought down to earth. He remembered his guild mates crying beside him. He remembered the condolences, the "I'm sorry"'s that everyone kept muttering under their breaths with eyes filled deep with sympathy. He remembered suddenly being alone. He remembered the rain stopping, the stars and moon coming out to play somberly above. He remembered them going, then the despair the morning sun felt as it came above the tree lines and the large gravestone until it reached high noon then it deciding it has had enough for the day and going out to hide once more.

Then there was a hand that had grabbed his wrist gently, leading him away from the sight. Wait, why was he there in the first place? Did he forget? How long was he standing there? What had happened? He couldn't ask them aloud since his voice wouldn't permit it, and soon enough he found himself sitting on his floor in the cottage, the small house oddly cleaned.

Soon the hours, or days? Maybe weeks? Years? He couldn't tell. It was all a blur. He would sometimes find himself sitting down alone in the house in darkness, then at a bench in a noisy guild hall in the light. He had lost track of time as he was left to his thoughts.

But it changed one day, he decided, or rather his mind decided that it had had enough of all this and he had put up a mask, one like a clown in a circus wore, one with his old smile and light in his eyes. It was a mask he had glued to his face and never took off.

Everyone thought he had gotten better, but behind the scenes he was a shell of former glory. Behind the scenes he was a broken boy. Behind the scenes he was fatherless. Behind the scenes he was lost. Behind the scenes he was helpless.

Behind the scenes he had created his own play, a play which he was a small child once more with a great red dragon and they were forever in a small clearing, happily living their days with happiness, without a frown, without a tear, without pain, without sadness, without broken hearts, they were forever happy. But the one thing the audience will never see, was behind the mask he wore and behind the scenes. They would only see the one thing shown to them, the fake play written out by a mask. They will forever stay ignorant to the fact on what was happening behind the scenes.


End file.
